


Frozen Fire

by Altitude_8



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A bit of abuse toward Ned, AU, Daenerys being awesome, F/M, I love his character, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pissed off Jon, Shapeshifting, Time Travel, Viserys getting his due, but its necessary, changing the narrative, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-03-10 01:02:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18928132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altitude_8/pseuds/Altitude_8
Summary: The great houses have shapeshifting abilities.Jon is not happy.There is time travel.That's pretty much all you need to know.





	1. Chapter 1

Ned passed through the halls of Winterfell, sunlight dancing through the windows as he walked. He was deeply concerned. Jon had not left his room for over a day. He had collapsed the previous night at dinner, screaming and clutching his head as he rolled on the floor. Yet before a stretcher could even be brought in for him, he suddenly arose, a cold fury surrounding him so palpable it made those near him back off. Cold eyes had turned towards Ned up at the high table, before the boy walked out of the hall, leaving only silence in his wake.

"What the hell was that about, Ned?" Robert had asked him. Ned could only shake his head, bewildered and concerned. The anger, the pain in the boys eyes... _did he know?_

No, there was no possible way. Only two people in the world could possibly have known the truth. He himself was one, and Howland Reed hadn't ventured out of the bogs of the Neck in years. So what was it?

Coming to  Jon's room, he saw Arya standing outside, furiously pounding on the door. "Open up, stupid, it's me! Arya!" She had tears in her eyes, and her voice kept breaking as she screamed through the heavy oak. "Jon! Please! Just talk to me!"

"Arya, why aren't you with your sister and Septa Mordane?" He asked softly. She whirled around, glaring furiously up at him, tear making little tracks down her face.

"Sansa and Septa Mordane are stupid," she declared hotly. "And Jon is being stupid. He hasn't come out, he won't say anything, he won't eat anything, he won't see me-" A sob cut through her, and she sank to the floor, covering her face as she cried.

"Aye. I know, little one. I'm going to talk to him. Please, go back to be with your sister, or at least your mother or Robb. I promise I'll come find you when I've finished talking to him." He lifter her up, and gently set her on her feet, kneeling so he was on her eye level. "Okay?"

She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. "Okay," she murmured.

"Good. Run along now." She began trudging down the hall, staring down at her feet. He made sure she went around the corner before turning and knocking on the door himself. 

"Jon?" he said. "It's me, your father." He thought he heard a scoff. "Will you please come unlock the door? Or at least say something?" Shuffling came from inside the room, and Ned stepped back. He heard a click, signifying that the door had been unlocked. He gently pushed it open, and moved inside.

It was dark. The fireplace was cold. The only light coming into the room was that from a small window with the shade partly opened. He could only make out Jon's silhouette, his features obscured in the shadow. A tapping noise was coming from the table, like tapping two pieces of wood together. He began to move forward, before a low growl pierced the air.

"Stay right where you are," Jon snarled. It wasn't like the wolf that the Stark family could turn into. This was something else. And it terrified Ned right to his core.

"Jon," he answered with his own growl. Whatever this was, he was still the alpha, while Jon was still a green boy. Untested in the ways of leadership and the pack. Whatever this was, he had to control it. "What is going on?"

"The truth, Lord Stark," was the low reply. "Do you even know what that is? I suppose not."

"What has gotten into you, boy? And stop with that. You know you can call me-"

" _Uncle?"_ Cold fear washed down Ned's back. "Is that what you would prefer me say?"

"How-when-who-"

"A magical raven, the past, and...a magical raven."  _What the hell_ _?_  "It doesn't matter. What does matter is I know. And what are you going to do now that I do."

"What-" He cleared his throat. It felt parched. "What do you mean?"

"Well, obviously I'm now a threat to your precious Robert's throne. At least, that's your logic, right? To keep the knowledge of a lonely boy's parents a secret from him so that he wouldn't...what? Start a rebellion? Try to kill Robert? Or, gods forbid, be happy and content?" Here his voice rose to a crescendo. "What are you going to do, _Lord Stark_? Tell your friend the truth? Confess your lies to the realm? Hand me over?  _Will you kill your own nephew?_ "

"Shh-shh-shh, not *swallow* not so loud! People will hear!"

"And what if I want them to hear? What will happen? Will you betray your own blood for the king?"

"No, no never!"

"Your words say one thing while your voice say another." A glowing grin appeared in the gloom. Ned realized that there was a fire in Jon's mouth.

"May the gods have mercy-"

"On who? Me? You? Or your precious, fat king?" A candle was lifted to the boy's mouth, and he lit it, setting it on the table before directing a jet of flame at the fire place. That's when Ned took in the sight of his nephew's form, and grew even more queasy.

Horns sprouted from his head, curling up, adding almost a foot of height to the lad. Scales covered a part of his face and his neck, running beneath his tunic. His arms were also covered in scales, and his hands had sharp claws extending out of each fingertip.  _So that's what had been tapping_ , he vaguely thought, before something swished behind Jon, grabbing his attention. A tail,, almost as long as the boy was tall slid across the floor, carping against the stone. Wings lay folded against his back, but he slowly began to extend and stretch them. No shoes were on his feet, which like his hands had become claws. He looked back up to the face of the lad he had once called his son, and saw a predatory grin there.

"Well, uncle?" came the mocking voice. "What will it be? Me? Or Robert?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. Sorry it took so long, I've had a busy summer of traveling and a severe case of writer's block. Anyway, onto the chapter.

Viserys stormed through Illyrio's manse to the rooms of his younger sister. Khal Drogo was coming today, and she had to be made ready and presentable. He might not accept her otherwise, then where would they be? But who knew? Maybe the horse-fucking savage would find a slightly dirty prize more appealing to his barbaric nature. Regardless of whatever may be true, she had woken the dragon. And when the dragon reared it's head, bad things happened.

He burst into the room to find it dark, the blinds closed on all the windows. Only one small candle burned on the table beside the bed, but this was not the only light source. a ring of what appeared to be embers lay on the bedding, and in them he could see Daenerys sitting calmly, as if his bursting in hadn't surprised her at all.

"Brother,'' she said,"I was beginning to wonder if you'd come at all."

"If I would- Daenerys, do you know what is happening today?!" he yelled. One might call it a screech, but that would be absurd. He was a king, an kings don't screech.

"Actually, no," she answered with a shrug, though something about it was peculiar. It had seemed like her pillows, or something behind her, had shifted with her movement. "Do remind me, I am finding myself a bit disorientated."

Dismissing it as a trick of the light he moved forward, screaming (No, it's shouting, he's a king),"You stupid bitch!" (He could not see her glare in the darkness.) "Khal Drogo is coming today! You were supposed to be at the baths over an hour ago! Now you've woken-" Something slammed into his chest when he tried to take another step forward, knocking the wind out of him and slamming him into the ground.

"You are no dragon," she hissed, an orange light glowing from her mouth, lighting her face as she spoke and making her teeth glow when she seethed. "I have awoken nothing but a worm which basks in a history it can never hope to be a part of. So silence." AS if he was even capable of speech as he lay gasping for breath. That terrible light died down. HE turned over and pushed himself to his arms and knees, coughing and heaving. "My sun and stars." Her voice had taken on a more amused and thoughtful tone. "It would be nice to see him again. But, there are other matters to attend to. And my heart belongs to another."

"Your heart-" He was cut off bye another round off coughing and retching. Once he had recovered enough, his rage returned. "Whore! I knew it! You're nothing but a good for nothing-"

"Enough."

"You don't command me, slut. I am your king, and I say-"

"I say ENOUGH!" Something shot out and grabbed Viserys by the throat, lifting him into the air. At first he thought it was a rope or a whip, but realized that it was too thick, and the texture was wrong. "You're pathetic, Viserys. But luckily for you, I value my family. You will not die today." He was dropped to the floor in a heap, before something came around and hit him in the head, knocking him unconscious. The last thing he was aware of was something dragging him by his shirt collar as a scaly tail came into view when light flooded the room.

\--

 illyrio had been sitting in his courtyard, enjoying a nice bowl of mushroom stew when the screams began. At first he thought they cam e from the city, which only caused a slight curiosity. Then when some of his sla-no, no they are servants, because slavery is illegal-some of his  _servants_ began to run past him is when he realized something was wrong. Grabbing a girl by the arm, Doreah, he thought it was, he shook her and demanded to know what was going on.

"The princess, she-" the girl stopped short as she looked up over Illyrios head, fear taking over every feature on her face. She screamed and pointed at something, causing him to turn and let her go. When he caught sight of the thing she had seen, he too wished he could run.

Perched up on one of his balcony's was what looked to be a living gargoyle. Dark wings unfurled from its back, spikes protruded from its head, and he could see the outline of a tail. In it's hand it clutched a man. Illyrio caught sight of the flash of silver hair on the man's head before the creature leapt down and soared over the courtyard towards him.

"NO! No, please!" Illyrio attempted to heave himself up out of his chair before he crashed back down to the ground. He heard a thump next to him and saw that Viserys had been dropped next to him. Rolling over, he pushed himself up just in time to see the winged figure touch down in front of him. He looked up fearfully, thinking he would die, until he finally caught sight of the things face, and relief flooded his body.

"Oh Princess Daenerys, I had thought...wait." He paused as realization sunk in. It was indeed the princess, but more than just her wings, horns and tail there were scales covering practically every inch of her he could see exempting her face. Claws extended out of her hand, and where once only misery and a spark of innocence had been in her eyes there lay a cold amusement and...rage?

"How did...what...when..."

"Come now, magister. It's not like this is unheard go for my house. Or truly any great Westerosi house."

"But...you are but a girl! And the last known Targaryen shifter was-"

"Rhaegar. Yet even he never got to this form. No, this was last seen with Bloodraven and Daemon Blackfyre, I believe." This was true.

While the ability to make parts of their body draconic had never truly died out within House Targaryen, to transform as fully as Daenerys had was rare indeed. Rhaegar, from all reports, had only ever managed the claws and scales. Her father, only the claws. And Viserys had shown no ability whatsoever.

"Now, I do believe you have something of mine."

"I-pardon?"

"The dragon eggs." His confusion was once again joined by fear. "Give them to me." Then as an afterthought,"Please."

"I don't know what you speak of, and-"  _Fwoosh._ A small jet of flame had escaped her mouth as she sighed and rolled her eyes, seeing through his lie.

"Let's not make this harder for everyone. Now, hand over the eggs, or you will learn the true meaning of Fire and Blood. And trust, it'll be quite the unforgettable lesson."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Daenerys for you. I don't really know where I'm going with this, so updates will be erratic. Thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to do so. Comment your opinions on my writing and story and how I can continue to improve on both.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna feel like a broken record saying this, but we need to stick with this fandom. I just read a story where the author gave up on it because they couldn't ship Daenerys with her "murderer", while I know there are others who are upset with how she burned all of King's Landing. Now look, you can have you're own opinion, but this is what fan fiction is for. A way for you too escape if you are unhappy with how something ended. I know a lot of people are unsatisfied (and in some cases even murderous) with how the show ended, but we just need to pull through. Regardless of what you believe, we are all here to enjoy our own narratives. So let's buck up, stick together, and get through this, aight?


End file.
